Page 11 of Not Open Yet
Nope, Kyle was honest with me, and there was something about his bluntness that made me feel safe enough to open up too. Before I could think better of it, I spewed out an info dump on him like it was my job. “I’m guessing you already figured out I’m Little.” I grabbed Teddy and held him tight as I rambled on. “And you probably pieced together that Rand was my Daddy.”
“I had my suspicions.” He cocked his head to the side of the bed and raised an eyebrow.
Suddenly wide awake, I patted the side of the bed so he could join me. I didn’t get to talk about my life with Rand often, so it was nice to reminisce with someone who could understand why I’d been so lost for so long.
It wasn’t an easy story to tell, but not for the reasons I thought.
Talking about Rand and the man he’d been was easy. In a way, I felt like I was honoring him and our love by speaking about him. It was the aftermath of his death that I struggled to verbalize.
Looking back, it was surprising I made it through at all. It was a platitude to say that you couldn’t live without someone, but in my case, I nearly didn’t. I’d sunk so deep into my depression that basic care was left at the wayside.
I’d hidden my grief from people who loved me, and keeping it all inside just made me feel worse. If only I could’ve seen that at the time.
But I was done hiding. Maybe not from everyone because that was too big of a step. But maybe I was ready to open the door for Kyle. And the more I shared with him, the lighter I felt. Somuch weight seemed to be lifted off me once I stopped burying my emotions so deep.
The truth was, I’d been too dependent on having a Daddy. That only made it harder to cope because I was dealing with my grief as well as navigating the world by myself. Maybe lots of couples had those types of bonds, but what we had was different. What I needed was different.
I’d allowed Rand to take over so much of my life. It wasn’t because he was controlling, but it was simply easier to let him carry the weight of most of my adulting. It was the reason why I’d spent months eating the same food from the same place, and why I didn’t know how to make a stinking decision. “How about you?” I gathered my courage and asked the second most important question on my mind. “Do you have a Little?” I almost dreaded the answer. If he told me he did, I might just burst out crying. At least I’d be able to lie and blame it on being sick.
He kept his eyes on me and shook his head. “No, I don’t. Haven’t for a long while.”
A long while? “But there was someone before?”
“Yes. A few over the years. But truthfully, we never had what you and Rand had. I’ve had Littles I liked to play with or scene with at the club. Basic caretaking and supervision when they regressed.”
“Oh…” That sounded lovely.
“I like taking care of people, Ethan. I like helping and being the one others look to when they need something.” He rolled the bottle between his palms and just looked at it. “It’s who I am.”
“It’s who you’ve always been.” He’d had that reputation when I was his student, and it was even more apparent now. I could feel his strength and authority the moment he walked into the shop. “Do you miss not having someone to take care of?”
“Yeah, but I’m not someone who wants to be a Daddy to just anyone. I’d like to find a serious relationship with someone I’m fully compatible with. As you know, being single can definitely be lonely.”
I understood what loneliness was, far more than I ever wanted to.
We talked for a while about what we liked to do and how we got into the lifestyle. But after a while, our positions slowly shifted, and before I knew it, I was snuggled against him and closed my eyes. We kept chatting, and it all felt so easy to chat about TV shows, favorite foods, and fancy coffees.
Maybe it was because Kyle didn’t make a big deal about me being Little that it felt comfortable enough to keep going like that. When I finally fell asleep, I’d already learned so much about him.
It had been several years since he’d been in a relationship. When they broke up, it wasn’t because somebody couldn’t keep their dick in their pants or there was a ton of drama. They just didn’t fit together anymore.
Usually, when I talked to someone about their ex, it came with a huge side-helping of bad-mouthing, being the victim, or at the very least, bitterness and disgust. But not with Kyle, and that said a lot about the kind of man he was. He wasn’t just kind to somebody while they were in the room. He was kind to them when he had the chance to just let all the dirt fly.
The one answer he gave that I couldn’t get out of my head was when I asked him what being a Daddy meant to him. He told me it meant showing up. Making sure his boy didn’t forget to eat when he was busy and that he got in the house safely when he dropped him off at night. Those might’ve sounded like basic things, but not everyone was capable of thinking about others when times got hard. That meant all the things, be that fixing a broken toilet handle or cooking dinner or hugging them when they got bad news.
He believed in being there for someone so they never felt alone.
There was so much to unpack in that, which was probably why it was playing in my head on repeat before I even cracked my eyes open. I didn’t want to be angry at Rand, and I wasn’t, but the one thing he didn’t do was show up when I needed him. To be fair, he couldn’t help it. He didn’t want to die, but that didn’t change the fact that he did.
He left me.
And even though it hurt less than the day before, when I really thought about being alone, the wound felt brand-new.
I’d slept hard after our hours of conversation, and when I woke up, I expected him to be gone. And he was, sorta.
The dishes were clean and he was nowhere in sight, but I could hear music playing downstairs, and I instantly recognized the playlist.
He hadn’t left me alone. He was down there working on my dream. Even without me there to appreciate it, he was showing up, and he wasn’t even my Daddy. The thing was, I kinda wanted him to be my Daddy. And that thought filled me with a whole lot of guilt.
